Broken Things Get Fixed
by bowtied
Summary: TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF-HARM AND SEXUAL ASSULT AND SUICIDAL THOUGHTS FOR LATER CHAPTERS (DO NOT READ IF YOU CAN BE TRIGGERED BY THESE THINGS) You showed me your scars, expecting me to run off. Little did you know, I was going to show you mine too. we were closer than we thought. - s.b
1. Chapter 1

**trigger warning: involves self-harm and mentions of sexual assault**

**So, there may be some parts of the story where it is in third-person point of view, but I decided to change it and I don't think I got it all. So just ignore those mistakes. **

**And please, if you can be triggered by self-harm or even brief mentions of sexual assault, _please _do not read. This story contains such things. **

**disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN GMW OR IT'S CHARACTERS. **

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><p><em>You showed me your scars<em>

_Expecting me to run off_

_But little did you know_

_That I was going to show you mine too_

_We were closer than we thought._

_s.b_

Nobody knows the real me. Nobody knows how many times I have cried in my room when nobody was watching. Nobody knows how many times I lost hope, how many times I've been let down. Nobody knows how many times I've felt like I was about to snap, but for the sake of others, i don't. Nobody knows the thoughts that go through my head when I'm sad, how truly terrible they are. Nobody knows how many times I have taken that blade against my arm, or thigh. Nobody. Knows. Me.

And they don't. But that doesn't mean they don't know what it's like.

When he found out, it was our junior year. Riley and him had already tried given a relationship a shot, back in 7th grade for like… 3 months. But decided it was best if they remained friends - for them and for our group.

It was a rainy Thanksgiving which, of course, I spending alone. I normally spend it with the Matthews, but they went to Philadelphia and while they insisted I came because I am family, I told them no. I lied and said my mom would be home when, of course, she was acyually going to be working on that very day and would be coming home drunk at around midnight because that's what she does.

Everyday, after I get home at 5 from the Matthews, i make my own dinner and would then spend the rest of my time waiting for my mom to get home and try and distract myself from my own thoughts.

At midnight, my mom would stumble into our apartment drunk off her ass so I carry her to her room so she doesn't pass out on the floor. And on the weekends, when I get back from Riley's to see empty bottles of beer laying around because my mom didn't get the check that she wanted so she drank her problems away - I will proceed to pick them up.

My mom enters at midnight, on the dot. Ignoring my mom's slurred mumbling, I hook an arm around my mother's waist and walk her to her room - already having laid out the ibuprofen and water for the morning after earlier.

After making sure my mother is in bed, I lock the doors and windows - not like there's really much to steal anyways. By the time I get my mom down and lock the doors, it's 1:30. Going into my room, I flop onto my bed and stare at the ceiling as tears slowly begin to form in my eyes. It isn't long before sobs begin to rack my body as my thoughts begin to fill my head. It's 3:24 before I know it. And, despite my best efforts, I reach towards the drawer by my bed and takes out my blade.

Rolling up my sleeve, I place the sharp piece of metal against my arm. Hesitating, I glide it against my wrist. Once, twice, three times, four. Eventually, I just stop counting.

I watch, calmly, as the blood begins to bead up and drip off of my arm, landing on her my white sheets. I reach for my crimson towel when I hear a knock at my window. Shit.

"Maya," _It's Lucas. Fuck._ "Are you up?"

I freeze, not really knowing what to do. My arm was bleeding profusely, and I know that no matter what happens now he was going to find out. My blood was everywhere - all over my sheets, my hands, my towel. There was no hiding this. Not a chance in hell. He is going to find out, and then tell Riley, and the Matthews and my life will never be the same. They will never look at me the same. And it's not like if he does come in, I can just hope that there isn't enough light to see my red eyes, and the mess I had made only moments ago. I can see it in the dimly lit room. And it's not helping that my arm won't stop bleeding.

"Maya?"

With my voice betraying me, I replied, "L-Lucas?"

"Can I come in? I know it's late but I just… I needed to see you."

I don't answer immediately, trying to come up with some idea to get me out of this mess but I failed to do so. I could just not let him in, but he needs to see me, and I have to be there for him. Everything is about to laid out on the table. Maybe he'll just run. Stop talking to me in general. Because who wants to be friends with the girl with scars all over her body? No one. I sighed, "You're not gonna like what you see."

"Maya, you're… you're you. I always like what I see when it comes to you."

...No, he's Riley's. They're going to be the next Cory and Topanga, they're perfect for each other. He'll make her happy. She deserves happiness. More so than me, because she is a good person. Just… ignore it, not like he meant it anyway, "Yeah, right. But I promise you won't like this."

"Well let me be the judge of that. Now can you let me in?"

Pulling down my long sleeves, I and stood up. My legs were weak, and I could barely stand but I managed to make it over to the window to unlock it.

"Have you been crying?" Was the first thing he says. Is it really that obvious? Am I that much of a mess right now?

Stepping away from the window, I crawled onto my bed and pulled my knees to my chest. I might as well start telling the truth from the beginning, "...a little. But forget about me, what's wrong?"

He climbed in and my heart began pounding, and I started to feel the blood soak through my sleeve. He is going to find out. Please, please don't find out. "Maya, tell me what's wrong? Why were you crying?"

He sounds so concerned, I have to bite my lip to stop myself from crying in front of him. "Why are you here? What happened that you needed to take a midnight stroll to one of New York's worst parts of town?"

"I had a nightmare. You were in it. I tried calling, you weren't answering and I freaked out. Now, why are - or were - you crying?"

"Usual stuff, no big deal. Don't worry about me, what's wrong? Why did you need to see me?"

I heard him sigh and the creaks in the floor was a great indicator he was making his way over to my bed, "Maya, what do you mean usual stuff? Are you always up crying at 3:48 in the morning?"

And that's when he sits down. He sits back up immediately, feeling something wet. "What the hell was that? Maya, I just sat down in something, can I turn on the light?"

I don't answer. I don't know how. And because I don't answer, he goes and turns on the light. He can now clearly see my blood soaked sheets, he can now clearly see my hands which are covered in blood. He can see. And now he knows.

He doesn't say anything. Now for a while. I have to fight back the tears when I begin to think he's left but that's when he speaks up, "Maya… let me see your arm."

I don't move. I don't budge. And he sits down again, crawling onto my bed and I can feel his shoulder against my right one. "Maya," He says. And he's so… calm about this. He isn't mad, he isn't angry. Just… cool, and collected. And it's scary.

He sighs and I feel him put his hand gently on my right forearm, peeling it away from my leg. He rolls up the sleeve. He doesn't see any fresh cuts, but he does see scars. And I can feel his calloused thumb going over them. "Can I see the other arm?"

I don't answer again, so he does what he did last time, and gently takes my arm. He can see how the blood soaked through, and he still proceeds to slowly roll up my sleeve; trying his best not to hurt me.

I finally look at him, and for once, he isn't an open book to be. I can't tell what he's thinking. And what he does next surprises me.

He crawls off the bed, takes my arm and tries to get me off the bed but I don't budge. So he picks me up, and carries me to the bathroom where he stands me on my feet and tells me to sit on the toilet. And for once, I listen.

He closes and locks the bathroom door before opening my cabinet and pulling out the first aid kit. He takes a cloth and wets it, before sitting on the edge of the tub and takes my left arm. He starts to carefully wipe up my arm, never taking his eyes green eyes away. Not till he sets the rag down and gets out the gauze tape, he takes it and begins to wrap it around my arm, he then takes the clip and clips in on so it will stay on. His expression never changes, and it's still unreadable.

He puts the first aid kit away, before sitting back down on the tub and looks at me. That's when I finally look away. So he puts his finger under my chin and lifts my head up so I have to look him in the eye. And when I do, I lose it. And he just holds me. He wraps his arms around me, and holds me. I don't know how long we're there like that.

We me made it to the floor sometime during my breakdown, and I begin to think, as I sit in his lap, cuddled up against his chest, why hasn't he left yet.

"I know how it feels. I know exactly how it feels to cry in the shower so no one can hear you, and waiting for everyone to fall apart, for ever everything to hurt so bad you just want to end it all. Mr. Perfect knows exactly how it feels. So I'm not gonna run scared, and I'm not gonna tell anyone. I'm going to help you through it. So can you tell me… what, has you hurting so much, that led you to hurt yourself?"

I wasn't expecting that, oh no… not at all. But there was a question that was asked, and he's gonna demand an answer. "What doesn't? I'm so… broken that I can feel lit. I mean, physically feel it. This is so much more than being sad now. This is affecting my whole body and it hurts. Hurts worse than any emotional pain then anyone can bestow upon me. And the only way to… make it lessen is if cut… but it doesn't even lessen it ya know? It just distracts me, it's like if you scraped your knee and your mom tells you to bite your finger. You distract one pain with another, one that doesn't hurt as much."

"To everyone's emotional hurting, there's something that happened. Did I ever tell you why I moved to New York?" I reply by silently shaking my head. "Well, my dad, he is… he's not the best. He cheated on my mom, and has a temper. He never physically hurt us, but he has said some things that have hurt us on an emotional level - that we ruined his life, he called my mom a slut, and told me I can never do anything right. My mom finally got sick of it and moved."

I wasn't expecting that either - I knew he didn't live with his dad, but I just thought his parents fell out of love. I didn't think something like this… and he shared it with me. The least I can do is tell him the truth about my father. "... My father didn't leave before I was born. He left when I was 6 -2 years before I met Riley. I just told her he left before I was born because I don't like the memories that come with him living with us. He did things… bad things…" My head begins to fill with memories of him touching me; telling him to stop, as I laid on the bed tied to the head boards so I couldn't fight him off. "He raped me. And touched me. And beat my mom senseless. And wanna know what the worst part is? I don't hate him. Even though I know I should. He didn't love me or my mom. He has taken everything away from me and I can't fucking hate him… and instead I hate myself. For many reason, because of what I see when I look in the mirror, for not being able to make my friends as happy as they should be, but also because I can't let go. No matter how hard I fucking try, i can't and it hurts. It hurts. So fucking much. So I cut because not even drawing can take the pain away… And for a little while, I start to feel good. I don't love myself, but I don't hate myself either. I'll talk more, laugh more, sleep and eat normally. But then something happens; like a switch turns off somewhere and all I am left with is the darkness of my mind. But each time it seems like I sink deeper and deeper and I'm scared… terrified that one day I won't make it back up. I feel like I'm gasping for air, screaming for help but everyone just looks at me with confused faces. Wondering what I am struggling over when they're all doing just fine and it makes me feel like I'm crazy. What the hell is wrong with me?"

He doesn't say anything - just sits there, his arms never tightening or loosening. And then he speaks, re leasing me from his hold, taking my hand in his and looking me dead in the eyes, "I am going to tell you something and I want you to listen. Because I mean it. next time you want to cut, whether that's now, or later, you are going to give me a call. I don't care what time it is, you are going to. And I will come. And instead of hurting your beautiful body, I will draw dead straight lines of kisses along your skin and will shower you in so many that by the time I am done you will forget the pain. Instead of hurting your beautiful body, you will call me and I will come over with all my felt tip pens and draw great big red admiral butterflies onto your wrist and tell you if you hurt yourself you'll kill your butterfly too. Instead of hurting your beautiful body, you will call me and I will come over and draw my name in great big capital letters on each of your arms and say if you cut yourself, you will be cutting me hear out too. Instead of hurting your beautiful body, you will call me and I will come over and draw you in so close in such a tight embrace that your dreadful mind won't be able to think about anything else than the feel of my arms around you. Everyday, from this moment on, I am going to check your arms. And if you have relapsed already, then I am going to walk you home that day, and we are going to go up into your room and your are going to take the blade, hold my arm and cut me as many times as you would yourself. And I will not leave until you do. And if you don't I will. Because harming that body of yours isn't going to solve anything, beautiful."

And he's serious. I know he is. And the only thing I can use to respond to that is, "I could never hurt you like that." And I understand everything. "Why?"

"Because, Maya. No matter how you useless you feel, you're my reason to smile-"

"No. No. Stop it. You-you are supposed to be Riley's. You make her happy. You're the person she is in love with. And her happiness always comes before mine. Always."

"But you see, she is happy. With Farkel. And has been for the past 7 months. Our relationship lasted 3 weeks and ended on mutual agreement. In 7th ever since 7th grade, all I have wanted is your lips on mine. It's been so easy for me to love you that it frightens me. I've never been good at anything. But I've never wanted anything so much as I want to hold you every waking minute. And every night while I sleep, the question has ceased to be, 'How do I love you' and is now, 'Why would I ever stop?' Maya Hart, you listen and you listen good. It's time to stop putting others before yourself. You keep doing that and you'll never be happy. Riley is happy. Farkel is happy. And I'm at my happiest when I'm with you. It's not selfish, it's necessary. I don't care if you don't reciprocate my feelings, that's fine. But I love you. You are the reason I smile. I look forward to seeing you everyday and playing our little game -"

I kiss him. I take my hand, place it behind his neck, and kiss him. And I have never quite felt anything like it before. For a moment, my brain shuts down and I forgot about everything except my lips against his and the way his hands felt on small of my back. The heat between our lips made a moan escape from my lips. I gently caressed his neck, not wanting to pull away but knew I had to before things got carried too far. So I did. "I like you, a lot; have liked you since we first met. And the only thing that has stopped me from going after you is Riley. But you guys split up nearly 5 years ago, and she's been with Farkel for almost a year now. So… let's give, this a shot. I make you happy. And you make me happy. Just… don't make me regret it."

He gave me a chaste peck on my lips, "Never."

"Why did you come here in the first place?"

He looked down, "I uh… I had a nightmare. I tried calling your cell, but you weren't picking up and I started freaking out."

"What was it about?"

"... you died. Ironically, it was from cutting yourself. You had uh, cut too deep and I was the one that found you." I wanted to run. Crawl into the deepest hole I could find, and hide. But I couldn't. Not, not now. "Please, don't make that nightmare become a reality. Please."

"I won't. But we should uh, get back to my room. We can't spend all night in the bathroom."

He nodded, "Well, as much as I love you here, can you get up? I can't go anywhere with you in my lap."

I jumped up, "Oh right. Sorry."

He stood up, and took my hand in his. I shut off the light and we went back to my room. We clean up my room, and just relax on my bed. We don't do anything, no. Just cuddle, I'm on his chest, his arms are wrapped around me and for once… I feel like everything is gonna be okay. There is a long road of recovery for me ahead but with him by my side… I think I'll actually make it to graduation.


	2. AN

**So this might turn into a two-shot because I don't like how that ended. I dunno, we'll see. Tell me if you think I should continue it into one more chapter or what, thanks for the reviews and faves. They are appreciated.**

**And anyone reading these, don't get any ideas. Self-harm is an issue that many people, myself included, struggle with and it's not an easy habit to break. Not by a long shot. It's as addicting as drugs, and there are so many after effects you have to deal with. It really doesn't solve anything, because the pain, and nothingness always comes back. It doesn't stay away for long. I did not create this to put ideas in your head, to encourage people to hurt themselves. Don't. Please, don't. It doesn't solve anything. **

**And if you do already struggle with it, you know the damage it can do. And while you try to hide it, you can't hide it forever because some forms leave scars. And you can't hide those scars for your entire life. Because they're on your body, permanently. They leave a mark, and while you want to hide it and you think that they will fade away - and I'm not gonna lie, some will but you will have some. And people will ask about them, and give you looks of sympathy and disgust because that has happened to me before and that sucks and it's embarrassing. **

**So don't start. Please. That was not the point of the story. **


	3. an 2

**So, I guess I'll make it into a series. I was just gonna do a two-shot to tie up loose ends but you guys want this to turn into a series. Your wish is my command. I'll start working on it tomorrow, because I am exhausted and my head fucking hurts. So see you the next update! Thanks for all the reviews, they mean a lot - since they were all really nice. I will accept any and all criticism as well as well as suggestions. **


	4. Chapter 2

**TRIGGER WARNING - MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM AND SEXUAL ASSULT AND LOTS OF OTHER STUFF THAT CAN BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME READERS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. **

**And, this is going to involve a panic attack? And I'm not sure if I'm going to write it correctly - so if I don't, I'm sorry. **

**But thanks for the reviews, I love them! I will accept any and all imput, and if you have any ideas on what I should do with the story, don't be afraid to tell me. **

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING. ALL RIGHTS GO TO GIRL MEETS WORLD. IF I DID, LUCAYA WOULD BE END GAME.**

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><p><em>BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. <em>

I groaned, that would be my alarm clock yelling at me to wake up so I could see my mom in a non drunken state.

I go to sit up, but a pair of arms are wrapped around me, preventing me to do so. Oh right, Lucas spent the night... oh god, he knows. And now I can't breathe. He knows, what if he is lying? What if he tells the Riley, or the Mr. Matthews, or someone? What if he tells the wrong person and everyone finds out? I can't breathe, I feel like I'm suffocating and I can't stop shaking and I'm crying again - I gotta get out. I can't be in this room any longer.

I pull myself from Lucas's arms a total wreck, I still can't breathe and my heart is going to pound out of my fucking chest. I open my window and sit on the ledge, and try and calm down. My breathing refuses to regulate and I feel like I'm gonna die and is this what a panic attack feels like?

Okay, Maya, just breathe. Just _breathe..._

"Maya, are you okay?"

He's up, he's awake and it's my fault. Can I just go crawl into a hole and just... die?

"Maya?"

"I- I can't breathe. I, uh, think I'm having a panic attack?"

"Okay, okay, come back inside." I hear him getting out of bed, and rustling around.

I turn around to see him looking through my book bag, and as I go to stand up - a wave of nausea washes over me. I nearly fall over, but Lucas turned around just as I was about to hit the floor and stopped it. He led me over to my bed, and sat me down and started rubbing my back. He gave me my sketch book saying, "Draw. Use it as a distraction, don't focus on your breathing, okay?"

I take the pencil from his hand and started to draw - and the more I drew, the more frustrated I got. I kept messing up. But soon I realized, I was calmed down. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, "Uh, thanks..."

_Please don't ask what it was about, please don't ask what it's about. I can't lie to you dammit._

"Maya, what was that about?"

_Shit, _"Uh-uh-uh, w-what was wh-what a-about?"

"Your panic attack?" He said it like it was obvious. Maybe because it was.

"N-no big d-deal. E-everything i-is fi-fine..." Even I wouldn't believe that. I mentally kick myself for being so see through.

"Maya, don't lie to me."

I bit my lip, there is no way out of this one. Again. How come I am always trapped around him? "Y-you know! That's it. Plain and simple. And that's scary! Because what if you tell someone? What if you tell the wrong someone?! Everyone knows, I become the 'attention seeker', I lose Riley as a best friend because her parents make us stop being frie-"

"That would never happen and you know it. They care - no, they _love _you way to much to do that. And I'm not telling anyone, I told you my rules last night - call me if you feel the urge. And if you still do it, that's okay because relapses are bound to happen. I don't expect you to be able to stop right away. But if it comes down to it, and I am left with no other choice - whether it be my help is not enough or you make no attempt to contact me at all, I will tell Mr. Matthews, and Mr. Matthews only. Understand?"

I nod, and it finally dawns on me that he actually cares. I have only felt this a few times before and that was with Riley, and the few moments I forget that I am not actually part of the Matthews's family. And it's... scary. It's so foreign, and it makes me want to run and flea, but I know that no matter how far I run, he would always chase me. And that thought makes my heart soar. So I smile, grab his collar and pull him down onto my lips. The kiss doesn't last long, but it says everything. And I don't care that I missed my mom in a sober state (she is long gone by now). All I care about is him, with his lips against mine, hands in hair.

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><p>After we pull apart, I kick him out of my room so I can get changed - grabbing a solid blue long sleeve shirt, black jean vest, and white ripped skinny jeans. Throwing that on, I grab my socks and bookbag and open the door to find him making us bowls of cereal.<p>

"Thanks, cowboy," I walk in, a smirk on my face, trying to act like nothing happened. Throwing on my tough girl act, I go back to teasing Lucas with the never ending country nicknames. We have a lot to talk about today, so the least I can do is keep it light and airy.

"My pleasure, ma'am. I would have made us actual food but time is of the essence."

We eat in silence, somehow our hands finding each others and interlocking. He breaks the silence, "So, what are we? Are we a thing, or...? Cause we both deserve to know if we're off the market."

I look at him, and smile. "As long as Riley, is okay with it. We're... dating."

His face lights up like a child on Christmas morning as he leans over to kiss me. Hopefully Riley is okay with us as a thing, because I don't think I want _us_ to stop.

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><p>We enter our school, my arm wrapping around his lower back and his arm slung around my shoulders. I hear the murmurs of the students around us:<p>

_Are they finally a thing?  
>Took them long enough.<br>Finally, you owe me $20 bucks, Jake.__  
>They're gonna go the distance.<em>

And frankly, I couldn't be happier. That's when Riley appears in our vision, Farkle right beside her, hand holding. "Are you guys dating?"

Lucas looks at me expectantly, of course I have to answer. She's my best friend not his, and we both know whatever future we have together is riding on whatever Riley says next. I pull Lucas closer and nod, "Yeah. But only if-"

"EEEEEEEEHHHHHH! FINALLY!" Riley's girlish squeals fill the hallway. "I have been rooting for you two for _soooooo _long! Yay, Lucaya!"

"Lucaya?" Lucas and I questioned simultaneously.

"Your ship name. She's had that figured out of a while." Farkle explained.

Before I could say anything else, Riley grabbed my wrist and started pulling me away, demanding details on how it all happened. Well shit. We didn't think of that one.

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><p><strong>So, I don't really like the way this turned out but eh, oh well. <strong>

**I know this didn't really deal with the subject as much. But I felt like I had to get we had to get their friend's reactions about their relationship in it, because Maya always will put Riley first. So of course, the only way "Lucaya" will happen is if they have her blessing. And of course, when she finds out, being the best friend, she is gonna want details. Well, they can't quite tell her that he found her cutting and after a deep talk decided to give them a shot now can they? **

**Hope you guys enjoyed, and please tell me what you think, what I can change, and any ideas you think I could throw in there or ways I could make this better. **


	5. Chapter 3

**TRIGGER WARNING - MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM AND SEXUAL ASSULT AND LOTS OF OTHER STUFF THAT CAN BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME READERS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. **

**I love you guys, your reviews are amazing. Thank you so much. **

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING. ALL RIGHTS GO TO GIRL MEETS WORLD. IF I DID, LUCAYA WOULD BE END GAME.**

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><p>She dragged me into the bathroom. What am I supposed to do? I can't exactly tell her the truth, she'll flip! And then tell her parents and who knows what the hell will happen after that and I don't want to find out. I'll call Lucas, make up some story or another - brief, short so we can work out actual details later.<p>

"So... what happened?!" She squealed, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me back and forth.

"Can I actually use the bathroom first? Cause I kind of have to take a piss,"

"You aren't lady like at all, are you?"

I smile and shake my head before walking into one of the stalls. I pull out my phone, send Lucas a quick text telling him I was gonna call and not to say anything. Calling him, I walk out of the stall and Riley wastes no time in asking what happened (not even questioning why she couldn't hear my pee because you can hear that and it's actually quite awkward in my opinion even though you hear everyone's).

"He came over, we hung out, we kissed. Simple." Short, simple - but of course, it's not enough to satisfy 'Smiley Riley'.

"But... like, this came out of nowhere! Well, not really - we all knew you'd end up together eventually. What happened while you hung out?"

_Think, Maya, think,_ I thought to myself. "He helped me study French, we ordered take-out, and watched a movie."

"But..."

"Riley, we're not a romantic novel. We didn't have some super dramatic revelation. It kind of just happened."

"But _how_?" She is so damn insistent. But I already knew this - doesn't make it any less annoying though.

"He was helping me with the dishes, we were talking about comics. When we finished, we both reached for the faucet and our hands touched -"

"AWWWWWEEE!" My best friend gushed, and I roll my eyes. She was such a girl! "I am sooooooo happy for you guys, I've been trying to figure out if you like him or not for the longest time!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! I was leaving so many hints!"

"I didn't see them. And apparently neither did Lucas."

"I already knew he like you though, I've known for 3 years. The messages wasn't for you it was for-"

"Maya Hart! So, I hear you're dating Lucas Friar. You're stupid." Riley and I direct our gazes to the entrance of the bathroom to find none other than Missy Bradford... great.

"Excuse me?" What the hell? What is her problem?

"You actually think Lucas is dating you because he likes you? Wow, you really are stupid. And here I thought it was just an act. Well let me break it to you, he's pity dating you. He feels sorry for you because your mama is street hooker and your dad didn't love you enough to stay. Sorry! And, I might as well tell you now, nobody loves you. You are unlovable. Farkle doesn't love you. Lucas does not love you. Your mom doesn't love you. Riley doesn't love-" _SLAP!_

Oh shit, Riley just slapped Missy. "Shut up! You have no idea what you are even talking about. Her mom is not a hooker - she is a waitress who is too busy working to ever be home to spend time with her daughter. And her dad didn't leave because he didn't love her, he left because he was too much of a coward to be able to take care of Maya when he was just getting out of college. And have you seen the way Lucas looks at her? She lights up his whole world. Every time she's around, his eyes light up and his smile widens. He isn't a guy trying to uphold his reputation of Mr. Perfect, he's a guy trying to make Maya happy. You're just jealous that he hates you, and if you think this is going to make him like you - you're dead wrong. He has too much self-respect to go for a girl who enjoys putting people down. And as for saying Maya's unlovable, you have no idea how _wrong _you are. She is a best friend to Farkle - maybe even sister, she is a spitfire for Lucas, and my sister. She is like Farkle's overprotecting big sister and her very presence brightens up Lucas's entire day. When my little brother is asked how many siblings he has, he always replies with 2 sisters because he loves her. My dad and my mom got her a cellphone and pay for her bill every month, restock her art supplies when she's running low, feed her on a daily basis and when think she isn't coming over they have me call her up and invite her over because they know she doesn't have much food at her house. They pay for her school supplies and look after her as if she were her own because to them, she is. They take her on every family vacation because she is part of our family and there is nothing you could ever do to change love her. So please, do not talk acting like you know everything because you know nothing about her. And don't ever say I don't love her because my world would not be complete without her, I look forward to seeing her everyday, she is my sister. Not my best friend. I will try my hardest to make her happy, because that's what she deserves. So do not say that I do not love her because I do. You can leave now."

Missy, still holding her cheek, turned to me and said before walking out, "This is not over."

When she was gone, I grabbed Riley and pulled her into a hug, "Why, _why _would you do that!?"

"What kind of sister would I be if I let her talk to you like that?" She replied before pulling back. I can feel her shaking underneath my hands, she was trembling. She smiled before continuing, "Don't listen to anything that she said. I know some of the things really hit home, but none of them are true. _You are loved. _By me, by dad and Auggie and mom, by Farkle and definitely by Lucas. He isn't pity dating you, Lucas is too much a gentleman to do that to a girl. I meant what I said to Missy. Everything I said was true. Do not listen to some bitch who thrives on making people feel worthless."

I'm crying now, but I don't care. I pull her into another hug and whisper in her ear, "Thank you."

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><p><strong>I'm sorry there weren't many Lucaya moments but I felt like this needed to happen. This isn't the last of Missy. Not by a long shot, and I didn't forget about the phone. That was needed to be forgotten about by Maya for next chapter. And also, remember Riley has no idea of what really happens with her mom or what happened with her dad. <strong>

**And a shout out to ButterFrenzy for the idea with Missy - sort of, about bringing her in. **

**Reviews are appreciated, any ideas will be taken into account. **


	6. Chapter 4

**TRIGGER WARNING - MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM AND SEXUAL ASSULT AND LOTS OF OTHER STUFF THAT CAN BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME READERS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. **

**I love you guys, your reviews are amazing. Thank you so much. **

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING. ALL RIGHTS GO TO GIRL MEETS WORLD. IF I DID, LUCAYA WOULD BE END GAME.**

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><p>We were in the bathroom not long after that, we heard yelling and wanted to see what was going on. Well, I did. Riley wanted to stay in the bathroom where it was safe.<p>

"...MADE OF LIES! DON'T ACT LIKE YOU EVEN KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT HER. HOW ANY OF HER FRIENDS FEEL ABOUT HER BECAUSE YOU KNOW NOTHING!" The screaming we heard from inside the bathroom was Lucas.

When we got out of the corridor of the bathroom, the sight in front of us was baffeling. Lucas was red in the face, all his shouting was directed at Missy and Farkel was in the middle in case Lucas got stupid and tried anything. While Lucas was a gentleman, he had anger issue - sort of. Normally he's calm and collected, but if you get him pissed there is no telling what could happen.

"Lucas!" I shout, but he was too pissed to hear anything. How did he even... oh shit! My phone was on the entire time.

"Maya, you have to do something. If he keeps this up, he's going to get into big trouble." Riley said, as she pulled on my sleeve to get my attention. She's right too. He could get into a lot of trouble for this and it will be all my fault.

"Lucas, stop!" I shouted as I got closer. He kept yelling profanities, so I stepped in front of him. He stopped almost immediately, but he didn't look at me. He seemed to be too busy glaring holes into Missy's forehead. "Lucas, look at me. I'm fine. She didn't do any emotional damage because I know everything she said was as lie. I know you guys love me, there is nothing that bitch can say to change that. Do you understand?"

"But what she said-"

"Was lies. Lies that she told in an effort to make me question how much you care for me. Lucas, look at me." He finally tore his eyes away from Missy and looked at mine. His eyes said he was angry, but he was also scared - scared that what she said will make me leave. His reaction would make me leave. I grab both sides of his face and bring them towards mine and they meet, but only for a second. We have an audience and PDA makes everyone feels awkward.

Even though the kiss wasn't long, he knew what I was trying to say - I'm not going anywhere, not until he inevitably pushes me away. I look into his eyes, and every doubt he had was washed away.

The bell rang though. Everyone began to clear out and while I know this is all going to have bad repercussions (the slap and Lucas's outburst), right now that's alright though. We'll deal with that when it comes. Right now though, it's time to go to first period gym which this year, I only have with Farkel.

Hiding my self-harm is going to be hard, the past couple of years I've had it all by myself so it was easier to hide from them. But the gym is really hot and no doubt Farkel is going to want to do some activities. He's going to know something is up eventually - because, while the kid is _weird,_ he's also brilliant. This year is going to be fun.

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><p><strong>Sorry, I know I haven't updated in a while and this is really short. I just couldn't come up with anything good. I mean - I had an idea but I didn't know how to word it. <strong>

**But I hoped you enjoyed this, I don't really like how it turned out but... whatever. Leave reviews, don't be afraid I don't bite... most of the time. **


	7. Chapter 5

**TRIGGER WARNING - MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM AND SEXUAL ASSULT AND LOTS OF OTHER STUFF THAT CAN BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME READERS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. **

**Thanks Alyssa on correcting me on my spelling - to be honest his name is kind of unique and I was too lazy to look up how it's actually spelled so. **

**But anyways, I'm back. With another chapter. This one is actually really dark. At least compared to my previous two. So as stated above, if you are triggered by any of the things mentioned above (which I might add to in later chapters), DO NOT READ. Hope you all enjoy.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING. ALL RIGHTS GO TO GIRL MEETS WORLD. IF I DID, LUCAYA WOULD BE END GAME.**

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><p>Farkle and I arrive a little late to gym. Luckily, the gym teachers don't notice because they're too busy breaking up the fight. Plus, it's a new 9-weeks, which means we're practically going to be doing nothing for the first week or so. Just enough time for me to figure out how to figure out what to do.<p>

Farkle is a fucking boy genius, the Jimmy Neutron of 2014. There is no doubt about that. Unfortunately? That doesn't help me. He's perceptive. Honestly I'm surprised he hasn't already found out. I think the only reason that is, is because he isn't aware of the signs. How could he? He doesn't realize I do, he hasn't known anyone else who's done it. Plus, he himself has never really struggled with it. The signs are usually gradual, it doesn't just happen over night. They hardly notice a thing.

But now that I have gym with him, I have no idea how the hell I'm going to hide it. The gym is an oven, I mean I'm sweating right now and we're literally just sitting in the bleachers. We're not required to do anything until next week, and that's when I'm gonna have to start dressing, and it is required of us to where a plain white t-shirt and some type of gym pants. And I can't really wear those little bands people who play tennis are usually wearing because I do it on my upper arm, not my wrist.

I'd just sit out, but then Farkle is still going to notice something because I love gym, I love playing sports almost as much as I love art. And, if I just do that, my grades would suffer and I don't want to let Mr. Matthews down. I've been okay with my grades this year and we're in the 3rd nine weeks, never getting anything lower than a 72, but never getting an higher than a 80 either (which really is an improvement, and unless you count art which is always an A).

I look over at Farkle to find him eyeing my arms. Yeah. There is no way in hell that I'm gonna be able to hide this from him. He's already looking at me like I've grown 2 heads and that's just for keeping my sleeves rolled down. Shit. Shit. Great.

"Aren't you hot?"

_Just, just play it cool Maya. Lie. This isn't Lucas. It will be easier to lie to him_. "No, why do you ask?"

"Well, it's practically 80 degree's in here and I can see the sweat on your forehead."

_Fuck. Fuck. Think Maya, fucking think._ "I feel fine-"

"Come to think of it, you're always wearing long sleeves to school. And you never let anyone come over anymore. Maya, what's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm fine. The school is just cold, and my house isn't on the greatest part of town."

"The gym is cold? Maya, you're growing pit-stains. Just roll up your sleeves, what the big deal?"

"It's not a big deal, I just don't want to!"

_Great, great we're getting angry, or frustrated, or something because we're arguing. I knew I wouldn't be able to hide it. I knew it, I knew it._

"Maya, you're practically sweating buckets. Why do you refuse to roll up your sleeves?"

"God dammit, Farkle. I told you, I don't want to! I'm fine."

"Roll up your sleeves. You are always wearing them. Something is going on."

"Nothing is going on! I like long sleeves, why is that so weird?"

"Because that's all you ever wear."

"All you ever wear is turtle necks."

"We've already established that's weird, Maya. But I still wear short sleeves every once in a while. Maya, roll up your sleeves. I already have a suspicion, please do not let me be right."

"Whatever it is, you're not right. Nothing is going on. Everything is okay."

"Then roll up your sleeves."

"No."

"Maya-"

"I said no! Now leave me the fuck alone!" I get up from our seats in the bleachers and practically bolt out of the gymnasium, ignoring the gym teachers shouts telling me to stop. Having nowhere else to turn to, I go for a janitor's closet which is luckily vacant on my part.

I lock the door, and slide down to the floor. Bringing my knees to my chest, my vision starts to blur. Everyone is going to find out. Everyone is going to figure out just how weak Maya Hart really is. I'm not strong, never fucking was. I'm about as weak as they come. First Lucas, now Farkle - well, he will soon.

Why can't something stay right for once in my fucking life? I start to hit my thighs out of frustration. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Maya, where are you? Look, I'm just worried." It's Farkle. He followed. Why would he follow? The teachers were yelling at me already for walking out, why would he chase after me at the risk of getting detention?

_Because he cares, _I hear a small voice tell me. I want to tell it to shut the hell up, but it's right. He does. So does Riley, and Lucas, and they might get suspended. All because of my worthless self.

_You're just getting everyone in trouble today aren't you? Why do you let people get so close when you know all you're going to do, is hurt them? All you ever do is get people hurt. You cause destruction in your wake. You don't deserve them. Kick them out. Kick them out before you rot them, take their pure souls and turn them into something rotten._

**_SHUT UP!_** I tell myself, slamming my fist against my thigh. I can no longer hold back the tears as they start to fall.

_But you know it's true. You are a worthless piece of shit. You are nothing special. You do nothing right. You don't breathe right. You don't eat right. You don't feel right. You don't do anything right. Look at you! You're a wreck. You'll always be a wreck. What Missy said about them not loving may not be right, but you're going to destroy them from the inside out. Just imagine if your mother saw you like this! You'd embarrass her. You already know she doesn't want you, you found it one the suicide notes under her bed one day. Right beside that gun. And your dad! He'd spit on you. And then hit you. And kick you for being so weak. And then touch you, as your punishment. Because the verbal abuse wasn't enough to destroy you from the inside out._

With every whack against my thigh, the more my thoughts begun to silence. I don't even notice the bell ring for 2nd period. It's English, I have it with Riley.

_Riley. Sweet, sweet Riley. So pretty, and beautiful, and interesting, and smart. Everything you're not. She has no idea. And if she did, would she keep you around? Or run away. Because does she really want to be friends with someone like you? She'll see you for who you really are. And she'll go running scared. She says she loves you, but that's because she doesn't know. She'll run and leave and abandon you like everyone else in your useless life. Because you're not worth being saved. And she'll realize it soon enough. Or worse, the every thought of you destroying yourself begins to destroy her. She'll start to hate herself for being such a terrible friend. And you know how when you start to hate one thing about yourself, it will turn in into your entire being. And it will be all your fault. But you already know this. And yet you continue to hurt yourself anyways. And the sad truth is, it isn't because you don't love her - it's because you're too weak to stop. Not even for the sake of your best friend. You're a failure._

My thoughts got louder, and louder, and suddenly hitting myself wasn't enough to block out all the terrible thoughts. I feel like I'm drowning, but I always feel like that don't I? I feel like I'm drowning, and everything hurts, and I'm just so sad, and just... tired! Tired of being pretending to be okay, tired of faking happiness, tired of putting on a fake smile, tired of the pain, tired of fighting. And, in that moment, I would give anything just so I would stop and I start to wonder if I'm suicidal. I'm not though. Because I'm going to go home and swallow pills, or take that gun under my moms bed and pull the trigger. But if I'm being honest? When I go home today, and I saw a car coming towards me? I wouldn't move. Maybe then the pain would finally stop.

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><p><strong>So, yeah. A lot darker this time around. But that honestly is the point of the story. <strong>

**And please, every single one of you, read my first authors note. I'm not writing these stories to put ideas in your head. Self-harm solves nothing. I promise you, because the pain doesn't stay away forever. It becomes as addicting as drugs or cigarettes. Please, don't start. Don't do it ever. If you are thinking about it, please feel free to message me even. I'll try and help you the best I can. **

**But I'm probably going to add suicide as a trigger warning now, I wasn't even planning on it but it the story seems to have taken it that way. **

**But yeah, tell me what you think. Any ideas? Please share. Love you guys.**


	8. Chapter 6

**TRIGGER WARNING - MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM AND SEXUAL ASSULT AND THOUGHTS OF SUICIDE LOTS OF OTHER STUFF THAT CAN BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME READERS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. **

**Sorry, I disappeared for a few days. I'm going through a hard time right now and I'm kind of dealing with that. But I'm back! With a new chapter. Merry Christmas by the way, I hope your holiday is filled with lots of love and cheer.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING. ALL RIGHTS GO TO GIRL MEETS WORLD. IF I DID, LUCAYA WOULD BE END GAME.**

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><p>I don't know how long I was in the closet, but it wasn't until I felt the vibration of the phone Mr. Matthews gave in my pocket that I realize it was lunch time which I have with Riley, Farkle and Lucas. So if I don't show they're going to come looking, if they aren't already.<p>

I pull out my cell phone to find 7 missed calls from Riley, 14 unanswered texts from Farkle plus 3 missed calls, and from Lucas 17 missed calls and 23 unanswered texts with more on the way.

_Where r u?!_

_Maya are you okay? I didn't mean to upset you._

_Does this have to do with Missy? _

_Babe where are you?_

_We're worried_

_come on just tell us where you are_

_ok if u don't answer this im getting my dad_

And 3 seconds later, my phone started to ring and a picture of me and Riley on Christmas came up. "Hello?" I answered, not really having any other choice given the fact she threatened to call her dad.

"WHERE ARE YOU!"

In the background, I hear the voices of Farkle and Lucas mumbling about how I picked up and demanding to see the phone.

"Uh... somewhere?" I mumbled, I don't want to tell them where because then I would have to face the fiasco that happened in gym and no thank you?

"_Riley, let me see the phone. _Maya?" It's Farkle. He is the last person on this earth I want to talk to right now.

"Farkle.."

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened in gym. I just... I think, you're depressed."

"I'm not-"

"Maya, listen to me for once, okay? I feel like you're depressed, because I researched the symptoms and how to tell if a friend suffers from them. And I heard about how people with depression sometimes self harm and I really don't want you to be doing that. Please tell me you aren't." My heart was pounding out my chest, this can't be happening right now - it can't. "Maya? Are you there?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm here. No, I'm not hurting myself. And I'm not depressed."

"Maya-"

"I'm not okay? I'm just sad... a lot. But I'm happy too, okay?"

"Maya, those who suffer with depression aren't always sad. They are happy too. It's a common stereotype often made, but it isn't true. In fact, because of it, over 80% of the people who are actually depressed don't receive treatment for it. You can be happy but still suffer-"

"Farkle, stop. It's sweet and all that you're so concerned, but I'm not depressed. And even if I was, it's not like anything could be done about it. If I were to tell my mom, she'd laugh in my face and tell me to suck it up."

That's when I hear Riley chip in, where's Lucas though? He hasn't said anything. "That's why it wasn't going to be your mom we would tell..."

"Then who would we- no. Riley, no, we are not bringing your parents into this."

"But Maya-"

"No! I am not their child, it is not their job to make sure I am well taken care of. And therapy is expensive, I am _not _going to allow them to pay for that. I'd feel way to guilty. That and the medication I'd have to receive - no. Okay? Just no."

"...Well, you don't really have a choice."

That's when I feel the door jiggling behind me. "Maya? Are you in there?"

And that's where Lucas is. Turns out he was looking for me, but wait what does she mean - "Riley, what the hell do you mean I don't have a choice?"


	9. AUTHORS NOTE 3

**Do to some private messaging I have received, I thought I would make this known in a chapter again. **

**THIS IS NOT ME PROMOTING ANYTHING I WRITE. **

**I said this in my first author's note, and I'll do it again because apparently it won't seem to settle in some people's thick skulls. **

**DO NOT CONSIDER DOING ANYTHING I WRITE. **

**Self-harm, as I have said a thousand times, does not solve anything and is just as bad and addicting as drugs and just as hard to stop as smoking. When you cut, or hurt yourself in general (cutting isn't the ONLY form of self-harm), you release endorphins (endogenous morphine) which is addictive. If you go a long time without hurting yourself, you can suffer from with drawl symptoms. On top of this, people gain a psychological dependency on it which is just as much the same of being psychologically dependent on a drug - it's still an addiction, even if it's not your body that's addicted.**

**I have told my readers time and time again that do not take in consideration as an idea to relieve yourself of the pain you're going through. It won't solve anything, in fact in the long run it will only cause more problems. Plus, do you really feel like having to hide your scars all the time? Or cleaning up the mess it will leave afterwards? Or the morning after? When you're in the moment, the pain is kind of the point. It serves a purpose, makes you feel better and it gives you a release or something. But the next morning you try to get out of bed, and your body burns. You shower, or bathe, and the cuts hurt like hell, they sear, they scream. You go about your daily life, but little things remind you that your body is pissed. You try and work out and the cuts say nonono. The pain isn't as soothing anymore. It's not doing anything. It's just making you miserable. It's reminding yourself that you screwed up, that something is wrong with you. Cuts reopen too. They make a whole new mess. They scab and become absolutely disgusting. The pain you're causing isn't just in the moment, it's the pain of the whole time it takes your harm to heal.**

**Plus, people will find out. And when they do, it'll bother them just as much. It'll hurt them and it doesn't make sense that it hurts other people when we hurt ourselves, and it's not fair, but we can't deny it either. We may want to tell ourselves that the pain is between us and the razor blade (or lighter, or even our own fists (what Maya was doing in the closet - hitting herself repeatedly, does count as self-harm)) but that is simply false: it impacts other people and it makes the people who care about us hurt. If you can't prioritize your own health and safety, prioritize the people in your life you're hurting by doing it.**

**Self harm of any kind does not solve your issues and it will just cause more in the long run. Do not start. Ever. And honestly, I'd just feel awful if by writing this is putting ideas in people's heads because that was not my fucking intention. **

**DO NOT START.**

**And as for those who have already started, you know what I mean when I say this. It will eventually destroy your life, or the ones around you. You will be seeing how self-harm screws up Maya and her relationships with everyone. **

**if any of you guys are hurting and ever need to talk, do not be afraid to pm me on here. I will try to help you as best as I can.  
>Just don't insult me and accuse me of encouraging this bullshit when I've clearly stated time and time again to <em>NOT <em>do it. And if you do, I will not hesitate to tell you guys to kindly fuck off, I honestly don't need your bullshit. Thanks.**

**But yes, sorry, not a new chapter, I just thought I would address this because honestly it's been pissing me off. **


	10. Chapter 7

**TRIGGER WARNING FOR MENTIONS OF SELF HARM, SEXUAL ASSAULT/RAPE, AND SUICIDE PLUS OTHER STUFF THAT CAN BE TRIGGERING TO SOME READERS {read at your own risk}**

**So, this is a new chapter and not an authors note.  
>Sorry, I know it took me forever to update, but as stated before, I'm dealing with things at the moment? Plus, holidays and shit. I was trying to post a new years lucaya one shot, but I feel like it's too late to post that now so fuck that! But I hope your holidays were fun and joyful and not full of fighting and drunk family members telling you your worthless.<br>**

**DISCLAMIER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING - IF I DID, LUCAYA WOULD BE CANON **

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><p>"Riley, what the hell do you mean I don't have a choice?" I demanded again, ignoring the jiggling of the door behind me. "Because Riley, I swear to fucking God, if you said something to your parents -"<p>

"I've been worried! We all have been!"

"_Maya, open up!_"

"Lucas hold on a minute! So you tell your parents that I have depression?"

"No, I tell them that I think you do!"

"Without asking me first?"

"Because I knew you'd act like this!"

"I'm acting like this because you went behind my back and disclosed information that we don't even know is true, to parents who aren't my own!"

"Maya, I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to do! I tried asking you if everything was alright and getting you to open up to me, but you just pushed me even farther away! And then when Farkle told me what happened to day in gym, I felt like I didn't have a choice!"

I hung up. I honestly didn't know what else to do, my so called best friend told her parents that I'm depressed. I'm not! So what if I'm sad more often then I'm happy? I'm still happy. I can't be depressed.

"_Maya, are you okay? Can you let me in now?_"

Before I could reply, the bell rang. I can't skip school all day and if I don't go to class, I know Lucas won't either and he is not going to get a cut from me. So I stand up, unlock the door, and opened it. Lucas nearly fell on me because apparently he was leaning on the door.

He regained his balance before looking at me, no doubt I looked like a mess. He's looking at me, and I look at him and I just start crying. Dear God, I cry too much.

Lucas steps closer and wraps his arms around me before we go back into the closet. He pulls one arm away and uses it to lock the door, and we sit there for minutes until the bell rings and then I realize I fucked up again because now either we're going to be late or he's going to get a cut because this is 6th period and we have Mr. Matthews as our teacher.

I pull away and wipe my tears with my sleeve and look at him, "Come on, we have to go."

"Maya, look at you! You're not in the-"

"Lucas I don't give a fuck at this point. You are not getting a cut slip from me because of me."

"But you are not okay right now! If we go to class you're still gonna be a mess, and I'm gonna be too focused on how to make my girlfriend feel better to retain any information."

"Lucas, I'm very talented at faking a healthy mental state. You have no idea how many times I have and nobody was any wiser to notice I was falling apart. This time won't be any different. Now lets go."

I stand up, but Lucas remains seated. "Lucas, come on. We're not argu-"

"You're right we're not." He stands up and takes my hand in his, "Because we are going to class. And I'm coming home with you after school and we are going to talk after school because we are going home together."

"Lucas, no-"

"Maya, no arguments on this. You do not get a say. I do not trust you to be in a home all by yourself after the mental breakdown you obviously had sometime to say."

I bite my lip and avert my gaze to the floor, but I knew that no matter how much that stung, he wasn't wrong. I release one as I curtly nod and unlock the door.

We head straight to class, but just as we're about to open the door, Lucas stops us. "Do you want to clean up? I mean, you still look beautiful, but it's obvious you've been crying."

I internally cringed, I don't know how he can call me beautiful when every time I look in the mirror I want to throw up. So I just ignore his comment, "I uh.. no. We're already here, so. If anyone asks, I'll handle it, alright?" He looked hesitant, but nodded anyway. "But there should probably a couple minute interval. You know as soon as we walk in there what they're gonna think."

He sighed, "Yeah, you're right. Alright. You go first. I don't trust you not to skip as soon as I go into the classroom."

I rolled my eyes, "You're being over dramatic, but whatever."

He leaned down and kissed my cheek, and stepped aside before I opened the door. The entire class looked towards the enterance of the classroom and my eyes immediately trailed to the fourth row, middle seat where Riley was seated, with Farkle behind her.

"M-Maya, you showed." I snapped my gaze from my two friends to Mr. Matthews and honestly the way he looked at me made me want to go crawl into a whole and die. _But, like always Maya, fake everything. Your confidence, your laid back attitude, your happiness. Everything._

"Yup! Sorry I'm late Mr. Matthews, something... uh, happened." I gulped and nearly rolled my eyes at how pathetic that sounded.

"Uh, just take a seat. You can serve detention sometime this week."

I bit my lip and nodded before taking my seat next to Riley and started drawing. She didn't even look at me. Not that I could blame her, because I am still pissed the fuck off. Farkle, was another story. All he did was try and get my attention but honestly I was too embarrassed to even look at him. As for Mr. Matthews, I knew he was looking at me with these puppy dog eyes wishing I would open up to someone. But people can't be trusted. They'll only abuse that trust in the end.

He had only just begun talking about whatever the hell we're learning about this week when Lucas walked in. I don't even bother looking up to see if I'm correct, because the first thing that was said when that door was opened was, "I'm sorry I'm late Mr. Matthews!"

"Just sit down, Friar. Don't you people know how to show up to class on time!"

I speak up, having to keep up the charade that Maya Hart was okay, "Woah, Bucky McBoing Boing late to class? Never thought I'd see the day."

His response is to look at me like I've grown two heads, at least until he catches onto my plan. "Something important had to be done, Ma'am. At least I have a reason other than just not wanting to show up on time."

I shrug, "That's what you think."

He takes his seat behind me, and 3 minutes into Mr. Matthews talking, he starts to play with my hair. I turn around to ask him what he is doing, but he's got this smile on his face that says he's content and happy that I honestly forget that my life is a wreck and I'm a worthless piece of trash. He's always been able to do that, to distract me from my problems, to make me genuinely happy, to make me calm down. And honestly? That scares me. That he is able to calm my nerves in a matter of seconds by the simplest action. That's gonna screw me over in the end, but I can't bring myself to care.


	11. Chapter 8

**TRIGGER WARNING FOR MENTIONS OF SELF HARM, SEXUAL ASSAULT/RAPE, AND SUICIDE PLUS OTHER STUFF THAT CAN BE TRIGGERING TO SOME READERS {read at your own risk}**

**Hey guys, here's another chapter. And if you actually read the author's notes, go check out Writinhcomesfromthesoul's story "I believe we'll be okay". **

**DISCLAMIER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING - IF I DID, LUCAYA WOULD BE CANON **

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><p>The class flew past, and before I knew it the bell rang. We start packing up our stuff, when I barely hear Riley says, "Imsorry!" before she runs out the door. Farkle looks at me, opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again before running out of the classroom.<p>

Before I can even do anything, Mr. Matthews asks, "Uh, Maya, can I... speak with you?"

I look at Lucas and bite my lip, I know what this is about. But I can't avoid it forever, with a sigh, I say, "Yeah, sure. Go on to class Cowboy, I'll see you in a bit."

He looks hesitant, like he probably shouldn't go on ahead (and he probably shouldn't), but he leans down and places a chaste peck on my cheek before walking out of the class.

I close my eyes before turning around and facing Mr. Matthews. What am I going to tell him? He's going to ask questions, ones that I will not want to answer, but I know that I do need help. I'll wing it, fuck everything up, and cry to Lucas about it later.

"Sit down Maya." I figure the best way to get through this is if I cooperate, so I nod and take a seat closer to his desk. "Riley, brought something to my attention-"

"She and Farkle think I'm depressed, right?"

He looks taken aback. "Uh, yeah. And I'm worried you are too. Topanga and I have discussed this already, even before Riley came to us about it today, and we want to take you to a see a therapist - just to see."

"My mom can't afford that." I say, not missing a beat. I know they weren't gonna ask her, they know how small our income is.

"We weren't gonna ask your mom to pay for that."

"But you aren't going to either. I'm not... I'm not you daughter, I am not your responsibility, it is not your job to make sure I'm taken care of." And that's the painful truth. No matter how much I'd rather be living with them instead of my mother, no matter how much I'd rather be a Matthews then a Hart, in the end? I'm not. And that's how it will always be. "I'm already a burden on you guys as it is, how can I ask you to pay for therapy sessions? And if I am diagnosed with depression, I'll have to take medicine and we can't afford that either."

"You aren't a burden Maya, and you're not asking us to pay for these sessions. We're offering, because we care, and we know your mother can't afford it. And if you need medicine, than you'll get it. We will cover you. We have enough, Maya. Topanga is a... well, kick ass lawyer, and I'm a teacher, together we can afford it and still have money to put food on the table, and a roof over our heads. We are doing this, because we want you to be okay. And you don't have to be our daughter for us to want you to be taken care of, or to be blood related for us to consider you our daughter - and we do."

He's lying, he has to be. My mom doesn't even care about me that much, why would they? It doesn't make sense, he has to be lying. So I just mumble right before speaking loud enough for him to hear, "I'm always okay, Mr. Matthews."

"That's a lie, Maya. No one is always okay."

That was the first time anyone has ever said that to me. No one has ever called me out on saying that before and before I know it I'm crying... again, for like the 7th time that day.

He reaches out and pulls me into a hug, and I hug back, despite my inner voice telling me not to. But I have to pull my act together, I can't be like this all day.

I pull away and wipe my tears with my sleeve, and he asks me, "So, you're gonna go?"

"Not like I have a choice right? But can we, please not tell my mom?"

"She's your mom honey, she kind of-"

"A mom doesn't leave her child unattended for days on end only to come back drunk out of her mind, okay? A mom doesn't get drunk until she doesn't even remember who I am, just because she didn't get the paycheck she wanted. A mom doesn't pass out on the couch and leaves empty beer bottles around only for me to have clean up later. A mom doesn't tell her daughter that she's the one who drove her father away in a suicide note under her bed. She's Katy. A woman, who tries her best to take care of me, but in the end just hurts me more. I understand that she cares, but maybe it'd be best if she didn't... if I didn't." And it's out of my mouth before I can even tell myself to shut the hell up.

Fuck, fuck fuck. Why did I say that? No one was supposed to know that. God, why the fuck am I so stupid! Can't even keep my big mouth shut from revealing some of my biggest secrets.

He's quiet, for I don't know how long and eventually I just can't take it so I stand up and run out the room to my last period class - art, something I have with Lucas and Farkle. Finally, something that will distract me.

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><p>I enter the classroom, and everyone looks at me. "Mr. Matthews wanted to talk to me about something, he said just to call him." And with that I take my seat in between Farkle and Lucas.<p>

Pulling out my sketchbook and drawing pencils, I began to work on the object she's having us draw these next few weeks - her motorcycle. The three of us worked in silence for the next few minutes, until Farkle finally said something. "Riley feels awful you know, but what she did was the right thing."

I know it was, but what she did still wasn't right and I'm not just gonna forgive her because she felt bad like I used to - that isn't how the real world works and she needs to learn that. I felt Lucas place his hand on the small of my back - an act of comfort. I don't need it, but I don't tell him to stop. "She went behind my back and told her parents false information, knowing I wouldn't like it. I think I'm allowUghed to be mad just a little bit longer."

"She's not the only ones who thinks it, I do, Lucas does, and her parents do." My stomach clenched when the name 'Lucas' came out of his mouth, apparently he thinks I'm depressed too. "We didn't do this with the intent on making you upset, we want you to be okay and actually be it. You can say you're always 'okay' all the time but that doesn't make it true."

That's the second time I've heard this today. Has nobody ever bought that? Did they know it was just a lie to back up my tough-girl act? If so, why didn't they say anything? Did they just not care?

"Maya, come back to earth," Farkle said, snapping his fingers in front of my face.

"Right, sorry... I'm mainly pissed off because you didn't even ask me before you went and said something to him. If you would have come and talked to me about it, maybe things would have gone differently. Look, can we not, talk about this? This day has been stressful enough, I'd rather deal with it tomorrow."

Farkle sighed, "Fine. But we are talking about it tomorrow."

"I know."

"Even if you skip school. We'll come to your house afterwards and deal with it then."

"Okay."

I don't even wanna think about tomorrow at this point. I just want to go home with Lucas, watch movies and cuddle, and fall asleep.


End file.
